Essex County herald. [volume] (Guildhall, Vt.) 1873-1964, 1887-06-10
y PROSE POEM.
LESSONS TO BE DaAWR FROM MEMORIAL DAY.

Inc IVY WTeathS, the DAINTY gar
lands, the wealth of fragrant bios
SONS and all the ministry of affection
!avished upon the closing tomb carry
no message from the loving hearts
of the living to those who have
passed beyond the earthly vision.
There is break in the innumerable
caravan at the river; those on the
other side, even if they have left
behind them the richest memoir
les of faithful service, can send
back no word of the triumphant
welcome which heralIed the re-
ward Of their seIf-denying labors as
thcir feet touched the further shore:
norca the falling tears, the glowing
eulogies, the sculptured marbles, the
memorial offerings with which those
who have yet to cross seek to solace
their bereaved and aching hearts
find single messenger to carry
these tributes to that supernal
sphere. The vast procession goes
on, but there is no communication
between the dividing shores.
If all that is done as a testimony
of respect to departed worth be
anything more than a hollow mock
cry, it must be designed solely for
its lessons to those who yet survive.
The annual pilgrimage to the grave
of the hero is perpetual rebuke of
selfish Incidence and an eloquent
witness to the fact that service and
sacrifice are all that can ennoble
human life. The leader of the army
and the humblest private who stood
faithfully at his post amid the flying
shafts receive alike the loving min
istry from grateful hearts, and this
but emphasizes the truth that faith
fulness and not station is the stand
ard of worth.
In covering the unnamed graves
with the same tokens of affection
that are laid above the nearest
friends there is a hint that nothing
of earnest devotion to truth shall
ever go unrewarded. 1t may be a
careless hand that scatters the flow
ers, but they bloom as brightly on
the little mound whose simple head
stone is without inscription as on
the costlier urn which is rich in cpl
taphs. 1t is a parable whose full in
depreciation will be sounded in every
ear when that day of final rewards
shall dawn, and the unhonored of
earth, and the unsung in the annals
of heroes, shall be summoned to
higher seats and richer crowns than
await those the world has entitled
great.
There is another lesson no less
worthy to be learned, but it comes
in gentler tones and is not heard by
every ear. We lay aside passion
and prejudice at the portals of the
grave, and weep for those who have
left us as if they had never been the
objects Of suspicion or hatred and
we had never charged them with
wringing our hearts with anguish.
We pile the green mounds and the
marble and granite blocks with the
fragrant memorials Of our affection,
and would fain hope that those thus
cherished in our hearts have forgot.
ten our cold words, our averted
looks, our refusals of fellowship
while they were with US.
If we have offended those who
are gone, no word of forgiveness can
come out of the sepulchre above
which we weep our tears of peni
tence. And if they have injured us
and we withheld our loving word
until they passed from our sight, nc
after heartache of ours over the
wasted opportunity, no tender re
QUEEN above the ear now deaf cal
stir the pulses of that heart We
would not bless with our charity
while this was within our gift.
This is the solemn but unspoker
warning that comes from every life
now silent in the grave. 1t asks Us
not to keep our kisses for the dead.
1t pleads for tenderness and kindly
sympathy toward those who are still
at our side. They annoy us, per
haps, for they are human; they of
fend us daily, it may be, for they
are not perfect. They tax our for
L r,